Difficult Does Not Mean Impossible
by Xezo
Summary: Part of him feared what would follow, the part that still wanted to be a Malfoy, he supposed. The rest of him, however, wanted this, the revelation that was coming, the comfort that he could not deny he felt, not matter how hard he tried.  Preslash DM/HP


A/N: Hey, this is kind of like a prequel to The Stress!, I'll explain at the end.

It's a little rocky at the beginning but it gets better after Draco bumps into Harry so please stick it out and give it a chance! (There's no slash in this, sorry, maybe a little implication if you stare really hard tho, think of it as pre-slash or something)

For now it's a oneshot (I'll explain at the end).

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Draco liked to believe his poor decisions were because of the stress. He was adamant that his poor choices were never actually choices, that he was forced by extenuating circumstances. When he chose the Death Eaters, he didn't really have a choice, it was that or die, but only after watching his family die first, and really, what choice was there in that? Even if he'd had a choice, he probably would have joined them anyway, because he was so stressed trying to keep his father happy, staying alive, and exacting revenge on the boy that he felt ruined his life, that he could barely think straight. Out of all of that, it was probably keeping his father happy that was the hardest.

Lucius was not an easy man to please. But strangely, after tearing himself to pieces his entire life to just receive one word of praise, all it took was one incredibly stupid decision to hear the magical words 'I'm proud of you, son'. That never sat well with Draco, in fact, it was a turning point. To have strived so hard for something, only to receive it for doing something he really had no choice over, was almost like a slap in the face, especially since Draco realised those words didn't mean as much as he'd thought they would.

Lucius was proud of him? For what, making the final decision to walk down the path that would follow in his footsteps, to head towards Lucius' life of grovelling to a hypocritical madman who'd torture him at any second, and expect him to grovel for more? How could any parent want that for themselves, let alone for their only child? How could they be proud of that decision?

However, once he was in the Death Eaters, there was no going back. He fell into a pit of despair after receiving his first mission, because he wasn't stupid, he was going to fail. At first he wasn't sure why Voldemort would give him such a hopeless mission, aside from his sadistic nature wanting any reason to torture someone. Only later, when he went to a few meetings did he realise it was a punishment for Lucius.

This only confused him, because why would Lucius care if Draco was tortured? He'd never expressed any fatherly feelings towards him, never even any kind ones. For a while this gave him hope, hope that his father just might love him after all, and maybe those magical words upon his initiation really did mean something to him. For a while Draco was happier, and then it hit him.

Lucius would always be afraid that any failure in Draco would be attributed to him, and blamed on him. So Voldemort setting Draco up on an impossible mission was really just a slow torture for Lucius that would end in a much faster and physical torture when he failed. Draco never felt so low.

When the school year began and he started to work towards his mission, he didn't even bother trying very hard, he knew he wouldn't succeed. How could Draco kill Dumbledore where Voldemort himself had always failed? Slowly, he began to think that maybe he shouldn't try at all, maybe he should fail on purpose, and somehow run away. Maybe he should go to Dumbledore with all the information he had and beg for protection, Malfoy pride be damned.

Malfoy pride…how worthless.

He didn't want to be a Malfoy anymore. He didn't want to be proud of grovelling and being tortured and then begging for the attention of his torturer. There was no pride in that.

But if he wasn't a Malfoy, then what was he?

It was around the time of this identity crisis that he had his first strange encounter with Harry.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" Draco spat at the person who'd just barrelled into him.

He almost broke into a smile at the sight of Harry blinking owlishly at him from the ground. With everything going on with Draco at that time, this was exactly what he needed, a fight with Harry. Who else could he fight that wouldn't rat him out? Because Harry strangely never told anyone about their fights, even though his friends must have noticed the bruises and cuts, no one ever bothered him about it. And who else but Harry could give as good as Draco gave?

At times of such high stress and confusion, Draco didn't just need to inflict pain on others, he needed to feel it too. As long as he focused on the fact that Harry ruined his life, rather than _how_ he ruined it, he was able to fight Harry without reserve. And it seemed Harry was always itching for a fight himself.

Harry continued to blink at him as if he didn't see him. In all, the boy looked confused and incredibly sad, like someone had shot his dog. Draco grinned, he must have been grieving for Sirius Black again, that gave him an easy angle.

"What's the matter, Potter, running off to have a cry about your dogfather," he spat. "You were pampered, that mutt should have been put down years ago."

Right on cue the fire flared up in Harry's eyes, thought it seemed a little more reserved than usual, Draco thought. Never the less he promptly threw himself at Draco, all fists. Draco took a few hits before he was able to lash out himself. It always, without fail, managed to surprise him how fast Harry was. He could stare at him for minutes and never see the first punch coming, there were never any indicators. It irritated Draco to no end, for he could never be that subtle, and he'd never gotten the drop on anyone.

Harry was a puncher, he went for brute, fast force to pummel Draco to the ground, but Draco was a kicker. Even as he fell to the ground he was always able to get a few good kicks into Harry's stomach or groin. Once they both hit the ground they were just all over each other with punches and scratches and anything they could get away with.

Really it was shameful, but it did the trick. Being able to hurt someone without holding back was like an intense massage into a muscle knot, it hurt for a while, didn't seem to be helping, and then all of a sudden it was over and the muscle and the rest of the body was limp and content. It was always that way with Harry. Although he walked away bruised, sometimes the winner, sometimes the loser, he always felt ten times lighter and content.

That day, however, was different. Draco was right about the fire in Harry being reserved. Harry went at him so fast and so agile that Draco was overcome within minutes. Before he'd even had time to feel embarrassed about how poorly he was fighting, he was on his back staring up into a very determined face.

He felt his heart stop. Only a very few times had Draco seen Harry looking that determined, and everything that followed that look led to the reasons why Harry Potter ruined his life. He immediately felt conflicted. He didn't know if he should try to get away, or to stay and give in. Part of him feared what would follow, the part that still wanted to be a Malfoy, he supposed. The rest of him however wanted this, the revelation that was coming, the _comfort_ that he could not deny he felt, not matter how hard he tried.

Harry's jaw and eyes softened, though he lost none of his determination. He reached out with one hand and gently held Draco's face so he couldn't look away. As always, one of his thumbs stroked Draco's jawline, and as always, Harry seemed completely oblivious of it. For a while he just stared into Draco's eyes, reading deep down to his very soul in a way that left Draco shivering at how exposed he felt, and how _unworthy_ that look made him feel.

"You have a choice," Harry said softly. "Even if it seems impossible to make a decision other than what is expected of you, there is always a choice. Do not confuse difficult with impossible, there are very few real impossible options out there. And do not think that attempting and failing at the difficult will make you any less of a man, because it makes you better than everyone else, just for trying, for having that hope of a different future, for being _human_. You should never sacrifice your happiness, or your pride for the acceptance of another, because you must first accept yourself, and live with your decisions."

Draco stopped breathing. He could already feel the weight of Harry's words sinking into him. It was such a light, warm feeling, but so heavy at the same time. Deep down, he knew Harry was right, he was always right when he said things like this to Draco. His gentle touch and kind, but determined, eyes screamed acceptance. It was an acceptance that he craved more than anything else, because there was no choice. The acceptance was already there, regardless of what Draco would do afterwards. It was there, it was gentle, warm, and painless to obtain.

But it hurt _so much_.

Only when they fought, and only some of those times, did he reach out to Draco with that acceptance, and it was always, without fail, when Draco needed it the most. The weight of such acceptance always without fail made him cry. It forced all of his sadness, fear, and anger to the surface in a torrent of tears, because there was someone there who cared. For some unknown reason, Harry cared.

Draco didn't understand it, he didn't think he ever would. There was just something amazing about Harry's ability to know when someone was in pain, to know what they needed to hear, when they needed to hear it, and also when they needed to feel it. But he always knew when that person needed normalcy. Draco knew, that if he slapped away Harry's hand, spat insults at him, landed a few blows and stalked away, everything would be back to normal the next time they met. But he also knew this would happen again, it always did.

Harry had proven that he would never give up on someone worth saving, even when no one else believed they deserved it, even when the person themselves didn't know they wanted to be saved.

But Draco couldn't go on. He couldn't handle his ridiculous farce of a mission, the weight of his family obligations, the terror that followed him every second of the day that he had made the wrong choice and would suffer for it. And he knew that he would suffer, that was a fact.

Even if he took the hand that Harry offered, he would still suffer. It was what he believed to be an impossible option, though Harry was right and it was only merely difficult, not impossible. But the suffering would be different, acceptable, because maybe, just maybe, he'd cease to hate himself.

Within seconds of Draco taking that hand and asking for help, they were both reduced to a bloody mess, because, really, did Harry _have_ to have _no_ reaction at all?

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Ok, so this kind of leads up to the events in The Stress! or basically why Draco was on their side in it. At the moment this is a oneshot, but I'm thinking of either making it into a story from here or making it into a series of oneshots (added to this story, not posted separately) I don't think I've ever written anything long-ish without a supernatural element in it so we'll see how it goes. I may actually veer off and it won't have anything to do with The Stress!

Just know for now this is a finished oneshot =]

Feedback would be much appreciated =] esp concrit on the beginning, cos I know it was kinda slow and awkward and I'd like to improve it, but need to know what people think to do so =]


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